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At some point, Huck disappeared. Thank goodness.
A number was pinned to the thin shoulder strap of my dress. I traced it with a fingertip, following the lines and working to place them.
“Fifty-Four,” the tall, slim man with the headset called. He had brown, slicked back hair, and a clipboard in his hands. There was something smarmy about him that made my skin crawl. Or perhaps the drugs were responsible for the sensation.
The room spun, and I stumbled while standing perfectly still.
“Fifty-Four,” he announced again, enunciating the words in a clipped, aggravated tone.
The man walked past me, tapping fingers on the board in a quick, agitated rhythm. I hyper focused on the pitter patter, noticing the scars that slashed across the backs of his knuckles on one hand.
The beat almost sounded song-like, and I swayed.
His attention skated over me, noting my tag, and he sneered. “There you are.” With a hand on the small of my back, he gave me a harsh shove forward. My legs wobbled, my heels making me feel like a baby deer finding its feet for the first time.
Rude.Was that really necessary?
“Get moving. You’re supposed to be in line already,” that irritating voice called again as his tart cherry scent, reminiscent of cough syrup, made my nose wrinkle. “And where is your attendant?”
The blond Beta woman from earlier rushed up. “I’m here,” she snapped, out of breath like she’d been running.
From what, I didn’t know.
I blinked, trying to get my mind to sharpen through the haze.
“Best to keep to your station, Darla,” the man glared at her, then finally, blessedly left, taking his stench with him.
With a quick fluff of my hair, Darla straightened my dress and unsmudged my lipstick. I stared at her, full of confusion, wondering why she was making such a fuss.
Apparently, I wasn’t doing the right thing, because she scoffed, rolled her eyes, then grabbed my arm and forcefully moved me as the line shifted.
I glanced back down at the white tag attached to my dress—more like a slip or lingerie.Sluttylingerie. “Five. Four,” I muttered, my brows drawing together as though I was solving a complicated math problem.
“Gods, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?” I blinked up at my escort.
Was that pity I saw in her eyes? A little late for that, wasn’t it?
Darla sighed and shook her head. “I hope you get a better pack than those assholes. It’s obvious they don’t know a good thing when they’re looking at it.”
She was referring to herself, of course. Not me.
I snorted a laugh. “More like asurething. Don’t know aboutgood.”
Stopping to leer at me, she sniffed haughtily. “Have a good life.”
Sarcasm. I was pretty sure that was sarcasm.
It was ridiculous, really. She was angry because the devil had spurned her.What a fool.Didn’t she know how lucky she was that Pack Silver didn’t want her?
She shoved me toward a waiting guard. I stumbled, almost falling. The man caught me, and I realized it was the same man from earlier with the chemical-tinged scent. It wafted up my nose—making me sneeze.
“Time to line up, doll.”
Doll. Why was everyone calling me a doll today? Was it because I looked pretty? Or breakable?
He led me into a room made of glass. There were windows everywhere, letting in the dark night sky and the lights of the city that spread out in all directions.
“This’ll all be over soon,” he promised, escorting me up the stairs of a makeshift stage that took up one end of the room.
